


Pyrite Gulch

by Gelatino



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, Guns, tobacco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 07:42:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11550639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gelatino/pseuds/Gelatino
Summary: A traveler comes to the small town of Pyrite Gulch and gets entangled in a conflict between a rowdy outlaw and a mysterious gem.





	Pyrite Gulch

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story about my gemsona, Pyrite. Please enjoy!

I had almost finished a cross-country journey from Boston to Santa Fe when I ran across a small, run-down town called Pyrite Gulch. It was a sad little place that gave the impression of a sick animal that refused to die. The rotten wood buildings leaned over, crooked and dilapidated. The few townsfolk I saw plodded about sluggishly and solemnly. A general store, stables, an inn, and a saloon were all the town had to offer—it didn’t even have a post office to its name.

Of all the towns I passed through on my trip, big or small, known or unknown, Pyrite Gulch was the most overwhelmingly depressing place I had seen. As much as I would have loved to press on, afternoon was approaching, and I would be riding through the night in a barren desert if I kept going. I had little choice but to stay the night and make the last leg of my journey in the morning. My faithful horse, Nassie, deserved a break after suffering the beating sun all day long.

After leaving Nassie at the stables, I headed to the saloon for a bite to eat. Stepping through the creaky wooden doors, I was unsurprised to find that the inside of the saloon was just as dead as the rest of the town, despite being filled with patrons. Everyone sat at round tables, most of them alone, a few of them murmuring to each other in hushed tones which together created a dull drone of mixed voices.

I took an empty seat at the bar. The bartender, a tall, strongly-build Indian with hard features and a solemn frown which seemed permanently affixed to his face, approached me.

“You are a visitor to this town, aren’t you?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I replied. “On my way to Santa Fe. It’s not too much farther, if I’m not mistaken.”

“You are not,” the bartender said, looking me over with narrowed eyes. “Many people stop in this town on their way to somewhere else, but few care to stay. Welcome to Pyrite Gulch.”

A hearty laugh rang out from a nearby table, catching everybody’s attention. At the table, a band of shady characters dressed in dirty denim, torn leather, and faded bandanas gathered, some hunched over with shifty eyes and some leaning back with their boots up high. The largest member pounded relentlessly against the wood with a meaty fist. She bellowed with mirth at some joke shared between the group, while the others chuckled along. Her tight leather jacket stretched with every gasp of air, barely containing a bulging mass of pure muscle.

“Who’s that?” I asked mindlessly while looking her over.

The bartender narrowed his eyes further. “Don’t get involved with her. She’s the leader of a band of outlaws, the type who kill for sport. They call her Ugly Mattie.”

“Ugly?” I repeated in disbelief. “That doesn’t seem fair. She looks pretty enough to me.”

The bartender laughed. “Ha! Don’t let her hear you say that.”

“Say what?” came another gravelly voice. The dull drone of the saloon suddenly ceased. I turned my head, only to find Ugly Mattie staring me straight in the eye. Her expression was fierce enough to grip my whole body with fear. Slowly, she lifted her broad shoulders and placed her massive hands flat on the table. Her gargantuan body rose from her seat and faced me. “Don’t let her hear you say what?”

When I failed to respond, Mattie left her seat and approached the bar. At this point, every eye in the saloon was trained on me, but I hardly noticed since I was preoccupied by the beast coming toward me. Her boots thumped like rolling thunder and the sagging floorboards creaked and moaned under her weight with every step. She towered over me as she drew closer and leaned down to look me straight in the eye. Reflected in her fiery eyes, I saw rivers of cold sweat flow down my forehead.

“What’s the matter with you?” she yelled inches from my face. I flinched back, but she grabbed my shirt collar and jerked me forward. “What did you say about me?” Her grip grew so strong that I was lifted right off my seat. She stood up straight and I dangled at eye level with her.

“Answer me!” she yelled. Droplets of tobacco-stained saliva fell onto my face and mixed with my salty sweat.

“I… I-“ I stammered.

“What?” she hissed, pulling me even closer. Tears blurred my vision and my entire body felt like a quivering wet noodle. With my throat constricted by her grip, I could only let out an airy rasp.

“I… said you were… pretty.”

Mattie took a moment to process my words. Her face then contorted with rage and she violently thrust me back in my seat. I crumpled like a wet paper towel, gasping for air.

“ _PRETTY?_ ” she roared in disbelief. The silent saloon reverberated with the deafening shout. She leaned down once again and faced me. “Listen to me,” she whispered shrilly. “I’m not pretty. Nobody calls me pretty. And I don’t want to hear you talking about me ever again, or I’ll rip your head off your scrawny little body.” She jerked forward, sending me recoiling in fear. “It’ll be easy.”

With that, Mattie finally turned around and stormed away. I was left in my seat, recovering from the trauma I had just been dealt. But before I could even think about my own problems, another shout rang out.

“And what are you looking at?”

A thin figure covered from head to toe in dull brown and gray clothing sat alone in a shadowy corner of the saloon. A steely gray hat covered his head and a bundled scarf obscured his face. A single white eye peered out from behind the cloak of silver hair and cloth. And now all eyes in the saloon focused on him.

“You’ve been watching me all day,” said Mattie as she stomped over to the shadowy corner. “Don’t think I didn’t see that beady little eye looking me over. You got a problem, sir?” But the scarfed man said nothing. He just kept staring.

Mattie suddenly struck the scarfed man’s table hard with a clenched fist. The loud bang caused everyone in the saloon to flinch in surprise, but the scarfed man showed no response. He just kept staring.

“What’s the matter with you?” yelled Mattie. “Nothing to say for yourself?” When no answer came, Mattie effortlessly overturned the table, sending it clattering upside-down on the floor. Still, the scarfed man didn’t react. Mattie snarled bitterly in frustration. She reached down and clutched the man’s collar, jerking him into the air just as she had done to me. His body hung limp and he stared blankly into her eyes.

Mattie opened her toothy maw to shout more abuse at the man, but before she could produce a sound, something caught her eye. She raised the man higher into the air and inspected his belt buckle. It was adorned with a brilliant metal pyramid that glinted gold and silver in the hazy light of the saloon. Each facet was a perfect mirror that reflected the image of her curious eyes. Mattie took some time pondering the precious belt buckle, presumably appraising its value.

“I’ll tell you what,” said Mattie calmly, dropping the man back in his seat. “I don’t like you. But I like that belt. I can’t tell if it’s gold or silver or what, but I want it.”

He just kept staring, betraying no emotion whatsoever. Mattie grew increasingly irritated at his silence. “Listen. If you hand over that belt right now, I won’t give you any more trouble.” She beckoned for the belt. The scarfed man just stared back.

After a few moments of stifling silence, Mattie abruptly grabbed the overturned table from the floor and hurled it across the room. Spectators scattered as the table struck the floor and shook the whole room. Mattie’s chest heaved and her face twisted into a ferocious grimace.

“If you won’t hand it over, I’m gonna take that belt from your cold, dead body!” she screamed, loud enough to set everyone’s ears ringing. She grabbed the scarfed man by the collar once more and jerked him into the air. “Duel, at sundown,” she hissed. “Quick draw, ten paces. I win, I take the belt, and your life. You win… you won’t win. I never lose.”

Mattie unceremoniously dropped the man back in his seat and turned toward the door. As she stomped out, her entourage of outlaws scrambled to their feet and filed out of the saloon after her. A few moments passed in silence, but gradually the gentle murmur of the saloon returned, as if nothing happened. Only the overturned table and the scarfed man seated silently in the corner served as reminders of what had just transpired.

The incident with the scarfed man made me momentarily forget my own peril at the hands of Ugly Mattie. My shirt collar was stretched beyond repair and my neck was hot and tender. My shirt was stained dark with sweat all over, and sweat still dripped from my hair, but my breathing had slowed to a normal pace, and so had my heart. All in all, I seemed to be okay.

“Don’t worry about it,” said the bartender, who was still standing near me. “She treats everybody that way.”

“You don’t say…” I nervously rubbed my sensitive neck. “She come here often?”

“Every few weeks. I don’t know where she comes from, but she always passes through these parts with her band of outlaws.” The bartender wiped a plate as he spoke. “No sheriff in this town. I’m surprised this place isn’t run by the likes of them.”

I glanced back at the scarfed man, still seated alone in a dark corner. He hadn’t moved since he was dropped in his seat, and he hadn’t even bothered to smooth out his disheveled clothing. He almost looked to be struck by terror, but I couldn’t say for sure since his face was covered and no part of his body betrayed any emotion.

“What about him?” I asked. “That guy gives me the creeps. Do you know him?”

“Nobody really knows him,” the bartender replied, shrugging his broad shoulders. “He comes to the saloon every day, but doesn’t eat or drink. He always sits by himself. People see him wandering the town, but nobody knows where he lives. In fact, I don’t think anybody has ever talked to him.”

I put forth the idea that perhaps he was just lonely. The bartender disagreed. “People have tried talking to him before. They never get a response.” He advised me that the scarfed man was just an odd fellow. Plenty of stranger characters had passed through the saloon. I shouldn’t worry about it.

As I ate my dinner, I pondered the scarfed man and watched him from across the room. After a little while, the man stood up, brushed himself off, and went to retrieve the table that still lay upside-down on the far end of the room. Once it was back in place, he sat down, adjusted his hat, and went back to quietly observing the saloon patrons.

I finished my meal and decided it was time to get a room at the inn. “I’ll certainly be back by sundown to see how this duel plays out,” I told the bartender.

He laughed. “I know who I’m betting on.”

* * *

The misshapen wooden buildings cast long shadows across the dusty ground. The fading sun lit a bright corridor straight through town, the glaring spotlight for the upcoming duel. A small crowd gathered in front of the saloon, waiting in morbid curiosity. Apart from the crowd paced Ugly Mattie, broad shoulders swinging slowly as she turned back and forth, peering at her surroundings. I stood near the door of the saloon with the bartender.

“Earlier, you said you knew who you were betting on,” I said. “Which one?”

“I won’t spoil the surprise,” he replied flatly. “I know exactly how this will play out.”

“It’s Ugly Mattie, isn’t it? It has to be. She said herself she never loses.”

The bartender frowned and gave a noncommittal grunt.

Mattie’s patience wore thin. Her stony glare finally gave way to a fiery rage. “Where are you!?” she bellowed. The crowd took a step back. “If you don’t show up, I’ll kill you on sight. Next time I see you, you’re dead!”

Just then, the crowd parted and the scarfed man came into view. He walked slowly but confidently toward Mattie. He stopped before her and looked up at her towering figure. She craned her neck down to look him in the eye. The contrast between them, colossal behemoth and scrawny stranger, was striking.

Mattie narrowed her eyes at him. “Quick draw, ten paces. I get the belt if I win. Let’s finish this quickly.”

The spectators quickly dispersed, crouching behind support beams and taking shelter on balconies and inside alleys, leaving the wide corridor empty. Mattie and the scarfed man stood back-to-back on the spot. No wind blew, nobody coughed, sneezed, or blinked.

The silence broke with the padding of boots on the hard ground. Mattie and the scarfed man listened for the rhythmic thumping of the other’s boots. One, two, three steps they made forward. The footsteps rang in the ears of the spectators like a pounding bass drum, drawing out beat after agonizing beat. Four, five, six. My eyes darted between the two opponents, now a considerable distance apart. Seven, eight, nine. I held my breath.

On the last step, each combatant turned and drew their weapons in a smooth movement. A single deafening crack rang out, as if their weapons discharged simultaneously. The eager spectators all glanced back and forth. The scarfed man stood confidently, legs astride and two shining pistols held in front of him. Mattie stood the same way, but with empty hands. Her silver revolver glinted as it tumbled through the air and clattered on the ground, kicking up a plume of orange dust. Her hat followed close behind, fluttering through the air and alighting on the soil. In panicked surprise, her eyes darted down to the gun, now resting on the ground, and she turned towards the hat behind her. She then faced her opponent, dumbstruck.

The scarfed man had already put away his pistols. He turned on his heel and began walking away from the scene without a word. Mattie took a moment to gather her thoughts, stammered a bit, and then raised her voice at the man, telling him that he cheated by using dual-wield firearms, and the sun was in her eyes, and other such things. But he didn’t look back. “You played dirty!” she screamed. “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you for that!” The man continued walking out of town. After the man had finally gone out of earshot, Mattie fell to her knees, pounded the ground, and growled obscenities to herself. “I never lose,” she said. “I never lose!” she repeated louder. At this point, the townsfolk decided that the show was over, and everybody went their separate ways. The town shortly resumed its former deathlike demeanor, with Mattie pounding away in the middle of it.

The bartender and I still stood on the saloon porch with Mattie directly before us, far enough that we couldn’t hear her sniveling complaints.

“Is this how you thought it would turn out?” I asked.

“Yes,” he replied flatly. “They always end this way.”

My look of confusion prompted him to elaborate. “I lied to you earlier. That man is not just an odd stranger. He has lived in this town for years, and he has attracted more than his fair share of trouble. Cocky outlaws like Ugly Mattie hate him. They challenge him to duels all the time, and he always disarms them without leaving a scratch.”

The more I heard about the scarfed man, the more maddeningly curious I became. I knew I would never be satisfied until I got a chance to talk to him.

“I wish you luck with that,” the bartender told me, “but I don’t think you will learn much. Nobody has ever been able to talk to him. Nobody knows where he lives. Nobody has even seen his face.”

I asked if there was any possible way I could find him, so I could at least try to communicate with him. The bartender told me that the scarfed man would likely spend his day at the saloon tomorrow, like he does every day. But it’s not a sure bet; sometimes the man disappears for hours at a time, sometimes days. I would have to be lucky to find him before leaving for Santa Fe tomorrow.

Dusk fell quickly. Mattie finally managed to pick herself up out of the dust and trudge off to find her group of outlaws. Though her limp body conveyed only shame, her eyes burned with a silent fury as she left the abandoned street.

* * *

Not a single lantern illuminated the streets of Pyrite Gulch, which had since faded from dull orange to pitch black in the dark of the night. As I lay awake in my room at the inn, a sliver of moonlight shone through my crooked window and faintly shone deep blue light, just enough to make out the cracks in the ceiling and idly follow their circuitous paths. The scarfed man still occupied my thoughts. Tomorrow morning would be my only chance to see him again. If he didn’t show up… Well, I’d still have a heck of a story to tell. But I would be driven mad wondering who he really was.

A sound interrupted my train of thought. It was so faint that I barely even perceived it, but the silent air carried it to my ear. I sat upright and listened carefully. The sound was a soft padding, slow and repeated, coming from outside.

I got out of bed and tiptoed across creaking floorboards to the window. It was hard to make out any shapes in the inky darkness of the night, but a black silhouette seemed to move across the ground. It was the scarfed man, for sure, and his footsteps landed softly but clearly. I scrambled to clothe myself and prepare my kerosene lantern in hopes that I wouldn’t lose him. I didn’t even take the time to think how odd it was for someone to walk through town without a lantern in the dead of night.

Outside the inn, I bathed the streets in harsh light as bright as the sun. I turned toward the direction I last saw the scarfed man walking, but he was nowhere in sight. I walked a little ways and looked in every direction and around every corner, but still nothing. I must have traversed the whole town at least twice in my desperate search. He could have left town altogether by then, and my efforts would be in vain. But I stubbornly held on to hope. I decided to change tactics—instead of following after him, I would stay in one place and hope for him to pass by. A nearby alley between two ramshackle buildings provided an adequate stakeout point, so I set down my lantern and seated myself in its ring of light, leaning against a building. I tipped my hat up to keep a vigilant eye on my surroundings.

I quickly lost track of how long I spent on the cold ground, and I had to keep myself from nodding off. Just as I was about to succumb to slumber, I felt something cold wrap around my neck. A meaty hand clutched my throat and I jolted awake to find Mattie’s face once again before mine. She lifted me off the ground. Her face was contorted with rage. “What are you doing here?” she hissed through clenched teeth. Trembling with fear, I couldn’t respond. “Answer me!” she hissed louder, jerking me violently forward.

“I…” I stammered. “L-looking… for someone…”

Mattie glared at me for a moment, then composed herself and dropped me to the ground. My sweat was freezing cold in the midnight chill and my body lay limp in the dust. “I think I know who you’re looking for,” she said softly. “Can’t imagine why. Don’t care.”

Mattie stomped my lantern hard with the heel of her boot. It popped and shattered, and kerosene pooled on the ground. The area was bathed in darkness. “You’re going to go back to sleep. You’re going to forget any of this happened. You’re going to leave town tomorrow and never cross my path again. Understood?”

Before I even got a chance to reply, a soft padding came from afar. Mattie and I both perked up and listened. The footsteps were coming nearer. Mattie covered my mouth and knelt down on the ground, leaning closely against the wall. A thin silhouette passed right by, not seeming to notice us. I surely would have shouted out for help if Mattie didn’t have a bone-crushing grip over my mouth. She held me tightly until the sound of footsteps became faint again.

Mattie stood up and moved her hand from my mouth to my throat. She squeezed my windpipe hard enough to cut off my breath completely. I sputtered and struggled as she spoke to me. “Leave him to me. Don’t follow me. If you interfere, I’ll kill you too.” She dropped me to the ground and I collapsed immediately.

Mattie took off swiftly while I gasped for breath. As soon as I gathered enough wind, I hoarsely shouted “Run!” Taking another deep breath, I yelled louder, “Run!” The scarfed man must have taken notice, for I heard a soft crunching sound like boots scraping hard on dry soil. At that moment, hoofbeats pounded the earth from the opposite direction. A bright light came into view. Mattie stormed forward on her horse, staring down her quarry. The scarfed man took off sprinting. I knew he couldn’t outrun the horse for long, so I felt I needed to help him somehow. Though my neck still ached, I picked myself up, took in a lungful of chilling night air, and ran shakily to the stables.

Nassie was reluctant to wake up, but with some trepidation, she galloped through the dark streets. When we reached the edge of town, Mattie’s lantern twinkled faintly in the distance. We sped forward across a featureless plain, following the shining white beacon. The cold flowing air bit my skin and stung my ears. My worries nagged at me, insisting that it might be too late, that Mattie must have already trampled the scarfed man or shot him dead. Going after a ruthless killer must have been the stupidest choice I made in my life. I could turn back at any moment and forget the whole affair, but I couldn’t bear to wake up next morning and find the scarfed man absent from his shadowy corner of the saloon.

After a short while of galloping, Mattie’s lantern light started to glow brighter. We were catching up to her. We kept going until a wide ring of light became visible, marred only by a brawny figure cast in shadow. As we approached, the scarfed man also came into view, prone on the ground before Mattie, surely defeated by fatigue, but still moving. Nassie slowed to a halt and I dismounted, careful to stay out of sight.

As soon as I took a step forward, Mattie snapped her head around and glared at me. I jumped in shock. Mattie’s expression was dark and beastlike, marked by the interplay of light and shadow like war paint. She turned away from the scarfed man and faced me directly.

“I told you…” she growled, “to not follow me.”

Mattie lunged forward and I cowered back. “I told you to  _forget_  about this! Now I’m going to have to kill you, too!”

I fell to my knees, certain now that I wouldn’t survive. I bowed my head, clasped my hands behind my neck. Mattie’s gun clicked as she held it up to me. Eyes trained to the dust to which I would soon return, I awaited the bullet.

A shot rang out. My body tensed, but strangely, I felt nothing. I waited in eerie silence. Then, a second round fired. I looked up. Mattie still towered over me, but her revolver hung limp in her hand. Her expression was vacant. A third shot sounded, and Mattie’s head jerked forward. She leaned over and fell to her knees right before the rest of her body came tumbling after. Her enormous torso lay in a puff of dust suspended around her by the sheer light of the lantern. The revolver clattered out of her hand.

Behind Mattie loomed the scrawny frame of the scarfed man, standing upright and pointing a pistol at the fallen giant. A single white eye fixed itself on her body, scanning for any further signs of movement. Naturally, thinking she was already dead, I jumped in surprise when her hand twitched. Immediately, the scarfed man discharged another round squarely in the back of her head. Her entire body convulsed, then she lay still once more.

The gruesome sight shocked me, but the scarfed man maintained his composure and kept his eye on the body. After a few breathless moments, the body still did not move. The scarfed man was satisfied. He took a step back from the body, then turned around nonchalantly and took his leave.

“Hey…” I murmured, still collecting my jumbled thoughts. “Hey! Wait!” The scarfed man halted and turned around to glance at me with his veiled eye. I sat speechless for a moment, then remembered Mattie. I crawled over to examine her body. “What did you…” I searched her jacket for bullet holes, but found none. I even pulled up her hair to look for wounds, but found no blood, just four swollen lumps on the nape of her neck. Puzzled, I rested my hand on her back. I was surprised to find that she was still breathing.

“She’s alive?” This did nothing to help me understand anything. I looked up at the scarfed man, who was still standing there, watching me. “How did you do that, with…” I motioned vaguely with my hands, but the words wouldn’t come out. The scarfed man still stood in place, even as my thoughts eluded me.

I stared at him for a long while, and he stared back at me. Finally, I stood up. The scarfed man stood a head shorter than me, almost the height of a child. Slowly, I walked straight up to him and asked him the only question I needed an answer to.

“Who… are you?”

The scarfed man gazed up at me and didn’t say a word. “Why don’t you ever say anything?” I asked, but I was only met with more silence. I shook my head. “What am I saying? I’m being so rude. I want to thank you for saving me back there. If it weren’t for you, I would be…” I trailed off and stared at the ground. “Seriously, thanks.”

I ventured to put a hand on his shoulder, but he immediately shrugged it off. I drew back, embarrassed that I might have made him uncomfortable. He continued staring at me in the same manner. It was a little frustrating, not knowing how to read this man’s emotions. How could I know whether or not I had offended him? His blank stare gave no indication whatsoever of his feelings, and it didn’t help that most of his face was covered. I wasn’t about to question it, but as if the scarfed man could read my mind, he grasped the gray scarf and began to pull it down.

I looked on with great curiosity, but a harsh light made me shield my eyes. The lantern light must have reflected against the man’s skin, and when my eyes finally adjusted, I found that I was gazing at a figure of pure gold. The facial features I saw were childlike: a soft jawline, round nose, and a single curious eye, for the other one was hidden behind a curtain of silver hair. These weren’t the features of a rugged traveler, but those of a young girl, all in the most brilliant yellow hues, as if she were a statue cast from dimpled metal.

I was simply awestruck. I took in the sight of her brilliant face without questioning what I saw. At this point, I believed nothing could sate my growing curiosity, and I had better be satisfied with that.

As the girl stood there, showing me what I had so hoped to see, I could only formulate two words in response. “Thank you.” She looked at me blankly. Though her face was now clearly visible, she was still just as inexpressive as before, but I didn’t mind any more.

The girl turned her attention to Ugly Mattie, who was still sprawled out unconscious on the ground. The white lantern light flickered over her dusty leather clothes. Her face was obscured by a tangled mess of hair.

“Oh, right,” I said. “So… what are we doing to do with her?”

Without further prompt, the girl bent down and examined Mattie. She slipped her hands under the body and lifted it so Mattie was now sitting up, her head slumped over her broad shoulders.

“Wait, what are you doing?” I asked. The girl motioned toward Mattie’s horse, which was still standing nearby, barely visible outside the glow of the lantern light. “You’re going to try to lift her up there? There’s no way! She’s massive!” Nevertheless, the girl got an arm under Mattie’s legs and began to lift.

I figured we may as well try. I ran up to the body and lifted with all my strength. As I suspected, Mattie was almost pure muscle and carrying her was like lifting a boulder. With our strength combined, we managed to hoist Mattie’s limp body off the ground and drape her over the horse’s back. Her arms and legs dangled awkwardly off the sides, but at least she was balanced. After that, the girl took hold of the horse’s reins and motioned for me to come with her. I had no clue which direction the town was and I couldn’t spot it in the inky darkness of night, but the girl seemed to know the way. I grabbed Mattie’s lantern, took Nassie’s reins, and walked alongside the girl.

The desert was silent save for the clopping of two sets of hooves and the plodding of two sets of boots. I could discern no sign of the town ahead, but we carried on anyway. I looked over to the girl. Her one visible eye was trained dead ahead.

I finally ventured to break the silence. “If you don’t mind…” I started, turning to see if she was listening. There was no reaction. Still, I continued. “I have one more question for you. Where exactly do you live?”

The girl glanced over to me for a moment, but then looked away, uninterested.

“Will you at least tell me where you come from?”

She looked down thoughtfully. Then she directed her gaze upward and pointed straight up. I looked, only to find a multitude of stars dotting the night sky, and a crescent moon overhead.

I wasn’t sure what to make of this gesture, so I decided to stop talking for the rest of the trip.


End file.
